


What's gonna be left of the world if you're not in it?

by Ellstra



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 23:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7734682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellstra/pseuds/Ellstra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux knows the mission Ren is about to undertake is stupid and unnecessarily dangerous, and it bothers him. When he realizes why he minds so much, it's already too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's gonna be left of the world if you're not in it?

**Author's Note:**

> I was sad and close to a mental breakdown and this is what came out of me when I tried to overcome it so technically I'm not responsible for it.   
> The name of the story is taken from the song "Good Grief" by Bastille.   
> This bag of tears is best served while listening to "Stay with me" by Sam Smith for maximal effect.

“Don’t go there, it’s a trap,” Hux said and really how was it not obvious? Why did the idiot have to be so stubborn, so determined and so self-assured? He could be so smart and sly and stupid and thick at the same time, it drove Hux crazy. In both the bad and the good way. It was the bad way then, seeing the decision in the dark eyes, the unspoken warning not to try to change his mind. It was the hairs on Hux’s neck standing in the premonition of a catastrophe. It was the sudden worry that he might not come back, that he may leave Hux here, leave him like everyone else did. It was the shock of the realization that no matter how much he drove Hux crazy, he was still the most appealing person Hux had ever met. It was the horror of the realization of how much the hole he’d leave behind would truly hurt.

“I have to,” he replied and Hux told himself he imagined the apology in his eyes. “It’s my family. My responsibility.” 

“The last time you met someone from your family, you killed him,” Hux snapped, panic underlying his voice. _You don’t care about your family_ , Hux wanted to scream. Maybe he should have screamed. Maybe he should have fallen onto his knees and let the words flow. Maybe he should have. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he shook his head. “I’ve been trying to find myself in the dark but I’m still restless.”

“You’re an idiot,” Hux spat out. _I’ll teach you how to rest. I’ll let you rest in my arms._

He had not responded, because what could he have said to that? Why should he even say something to it? So Hux watched him go, watched him board his stupid ship, gave him a unit of stormtroopers to guard him, and turned to his work as if it could save him. He dived deep into it, losing himself in complicated schematics, battle plans, anything, just to feel like the reason he’s not seeing him is all the work, not the fact that he was gone, gone searching for his family, whatever that meant. Work was the only reason. He had not left Hux, had not abandoned him for his shitty family, had not walked into a trap. 

He was gone for hours, for days and all that time Hux worked until he fell asleep with exhaustion. Once he woke up, his face hurting from pressure sore his datapad had left on his cheek, his neck stiff and his eyes red, he carried on with his work where he had stopped when his eyes couldn’t stay open anymore. 

There were no news of him, no messages from him, no demands for ransom. Just deafening, excruciating silence. Hux had subconsciously started to change his usual ways around the Finalizer. Nobody dared point it out but everyone on board, save for Hux himself, knew that the General was walking in his steps, lingering by pieces of machinery that were replaced after one of his fits, trying to catch his scent, hoping it’d lure him back. It took Hux three days to swallow his pride and invade his quarters to steal a couple of hours of sleep in his bed. If anything, it had made things worse, but Hux was not the one to admit defeat. 

It had been over a week and he was still not back. He may have gotten caught or killed or worse. Or he may have actually changed sides, gone back to his family, his wretched family, his stupid family, his annoying family that stole him from Hux. Hux tried not to think about the bad eventualities but it was getting harder and harder not to imagine him lost forever, gone, vanished. He started creeping into Hux’s dreams. Good, bad, it was no matter, he was in all of them, elusive and distant, significantly more gorgeous in Hux’s longing mind than he was in reality. That way, even the good dreams turned into nightmares when they ended and left solitude and the memory of belonging behind, leaving Hux more and more exhausted with every morning. Clutching used bedsheets that had lost all his scent by now, replaced by Hux’s own, to his chest, the General willed himself to fall asleep, afraid of what he might wake up to the next day. 

-

“I’ll come back,” Kylo promised, standing by the glass panel of his shuttle, watching the figure that seemed too frail, too vulnerable standing there alone, for some reason overseeing the departure. Orange hair hidden under that silly cap he liked to wear to pretend he was taller, arms crossed on a slender chest, fingers in black gloves clutched too tight. Kylo could not wrap his mind around that exchange they had just before he left. He had never cared too much what Kylo got himself into, he never asked, never lectured, never _begged_. For a while, Kylo thought he’d say something, admit something but then he just growled and looked away, as if he couldn’t care less about Kylo. 

Kylo would be lying if he claimed he didn’t have a bad feeling about this mission. There was something warning him not to do it, not to leave, not to care about Luke Skywalker or the girl who could, or could not, be his cousin, not to listen to Snoke. He was warning Kylo not to go and it was almost, almost enough to keep Kylo there. Just a word or two were missing for Kylo to unpack his things, if only something else came out of the rosy lips rather than: “You’re an idiot.” 

“You are an idiot,” Kylo had whispered and the corners of his mouth rose on their own, despite everything, despite his fear, despite the inexplicable sorrow that settled in his stomach when he saw the lone man down on the platform. 

The ships’s engines roared and Kylo wondered when they’d see each other again.

It was a disaster, just as he had said, and Kylo should have listened. There weren’t too many thoughts Kylo was capable of keeping track of as he dragged himself to his ship, blood oozing from too many wounds for him to keep track of them, but there was a distinct memory of angry, hurt green eyes telling him not to go, telling him he was an idiot, begging him to stay. Kylo was shaking, on the verge of giving up but it wasn’t possible, not with him waiting, excited to tell Kylo his _told you so_ delightedly. Somehow, Kylo made it to his ship and passed out the moment the door closed. 

-

“Sir, Kylo Ren’s shuttle has returned,” a nameless, faceless person had informed Hux. _He’s back, he’s back, he’s back_ Hux’s brain chanted before the expression on the other man’s face grew solemn, “he’s badly wounded.”

“Thank you,” Hux nodded and turned around to walk off the bridge, pretending it was just a casual coffee break, pretending he won’t start running the moment the door swished closed behind him, pretending his heart wasn’t racing, threatening to jump out of his chest. _He’s here, he’s hurt but he’s here_ , Hux kept thinking and the urgency of his thoughts matched the alacrity of his strides. Hux assumed he’d be taken into the hospital ward and didn’t bother checking up on his ship. There will be plenty of time to learn about his journey. Plenty, plenty, plenty, Hux had to believe that. 

He was unconscious when Hux found him, naked save for the bacta patches the doctors were applying on him in a hurry. Hux tried not to be a hindrance, not to be in anyone’s way but he was drawn to the body lying on the table, unable to look away but not really taking in the fact that he was naked, he was there on display for anyone who dared look. All Hux saw was crimson blood and yellowish bacta and white doctors and long hair that was too dark, darker than Hux remembered, darker than Hux’s despair as he saw the doctor’s worried faces. 

“Stay with me,” Hux mumbled under his breath, reaching a pale hand towards the person on the hospital cot that seemed more dead than alive. Hux’s own fingers seemed dark in comparison with his and it terrified the General, terrified him out of his mind, because nobody should be white like that, not him, not him, not him. “Stay with me, you idiot.” 

The doctors hurried to get bags of liquid that looked too obscure to be blood, wine-red rather than blood-red, dense rather than ready to flow. 

“Stay with me,” Hux said again, frustrated. How difficult of an order was it? How difficult was it to hear the plea, to notice all the fear and regret and sorrow Hux condensed into three little words? How difficult was it to just keep breathing, seeing, thinking? 

His breathing was almost imperceptible, his heartbeat slow, his colour gone. Hux watched him with panic. Hux struggled not to urge the doctors to do more, to try harder, to think faster. 

“Please,” Hux breathed out. 

Minutes came and went and Hux felt like each of them weighed him down a ton, aged him a few years, took a liter of air from his lungs. 

“You can’t leave me here now when I need you,” Hux muttered angrily. The line monitoring his heartbeat got flat, indifferent, cold, business-like. A shriek of hysteria caught in Hux’s throat. All that happened after that was a blur that could have been a minute or a day long, Hux couldn’t tell. He watched, helpless, as something precious crumbled in front of his eyes, something he had considered permanent, omnipresent, strong withered in front of him again and he could only watch, unable to stop its ruin. Hux stared wide-eyed as the doctors worked in an increasing frustration and worry. He was lying there, unresponsive, oblivious to their effort or to Hux’s dread, and he looked fierce and lost at the same time. 

“He’s gone,” a doctor said and Hux felt his world shattering into tiny pieces again, the pieces that were more and more difficult to find and glue together every time they flew off. 

“How dare you?” Hux screamed at the lifeless body as if it could bring him back to life. “How do you fucking dare?” 

Hux felt his legs denying obedience and he fell onto the ground, thighs pulled so close to his chest it hurt, sobs hurting his trachea as they scrambled into the world. All Hux felt at that moment was anger, burning anger at himself, at him, at the world, at his stupid family and their need for drama, at the doctors who couldn’t save him, at the bacta that couldn’t save him and at fate, or whatever it was that brought him to Hux’s life and ruined it. 

“Why do I always have to be right when I predict something bad?” Hux muttered and stared at the corpse lying in front of him, still warm, still pliant. “Why couldn’t you prove me wrong this time?”

_I should have told you_ , Hux thought, not daring to say the words out loud, _I should have known. Maybe you wouldn’t have gone away. Or maybe you would have and you’d be reckless. Maybe you’d laugh at me and tell me I was stupid. Maybe you’d be angry with me, disgusted. Either way, you would have done something. Anything would have been better than this, than never getting to tell you that for some inexplicable reason, I’ve fallen for you and now you’re gone and you will never pick me up._

Tears of regret rolled down Hux’s cheeks. They were not tears of sorrow or remorse yet, those will come later when the shock washes off and Hux realizes what the body means. At this point, they were tears of regret, mourning a future that could have been, cursing the past that thwarted it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcome, especially on this story because I'm still not sure what's going on in it and if it's good or bad.


End file.
